


Yethia Royalty AU

by YoAlexander



Series: Redeemers AUs [1]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, F/M, M/M, Political Marriage, Yethia, royal au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-18 07:01:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21890155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YoAlexander/pseuds/YoAlexander
Summary: An AU featuring inspiration and characters from a wonderful group of people.Ayerdryn is sent off to marry the king of Yethia. Away from his family for the first time in his life, he must navigate the political minefield and come to terms with the hardened yet handsome person who was gifted to him.
Series: Redeemers AUs [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1576858
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	1. Arrival

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bookshido](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookshido/gifts), [aliensinflowercrowns](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliensinflowercrowns/gifts), [Froggy_Horntail](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Froggy_Horntail/gifts).



Ayerdryn had never expected to be married off. In hindsight, he probably should have seen it coming from the strings of failed after failed meetings with potential suitors from suitably powerful families, from the constant lectures from Iveron about how he needed to do  _ something _ for the family to justify his own existence, from the apologetic looks his mother had been sending him for the last few weeks. Still, he had never in his wildest dreams would have imagined that he would be betrothed to King Pervalor of Yethia. 

News of Queen Elidove’s death was well known, but no one had thought that her husband would shed the blacks of morning so quickly. Then, with Yethia closing it’s boarders, it seemed as if the other court families were reluctant to hand over their children who could provide them with much more useful powers within Ostrana. Though, apparently, the Miraberos had an involved enough relationship to justify such a match. Honestly, the reeling in Ayerdryn’s head half made him wish that he had more attention in his lessons when they had been discussing the forign country. He had almost no idea what he was stepping into. Besides, the king had a son. It didn’t seem proper to be taking a match with someone the same age as your child. Then again, if you had enough power then it seemed people really could get away with anything. 

He stared out of the carriage window. So far, Yethia was much more craggy than the Spring court. The lack of continuous blooms dotting his vision filled him with a sense of homesickness already. He wasn’t prepared for this. He hadn’t traveled anywhere. He hadn’t done anything significant in his life. He was barely an adult! He wasn’t ready to get married and be forced to stay in one place for the rest of his life. Besides, his betrothed already scared him. There was no moral reason going through his head for why a powerful king would want him for marriage. It wasn’t like he had ever told anyone he had always found men more beautiful than women. Did people know anyway? Was this supposed to be his punishment from the world for his secret, inner thoughts? 

Ayerdryn should his head roughly and wiped away the beginnings of tears in his eyes. Thoughts like those wouldn’t be productive. This was happening whether he wanted it to or not. It would be best to face the situation with an open mind instead of dooming everything before he had even stepped foot in his future home. 

More than anything, he wished that he had at least one of his sisters sitting next to him, anyone really, so he wouldn't feel so alone. But, no, Iveron had explained that everyone would simply be too busy at the moment to attend the wedding. He understood. Of course he did. After all, he had spent the entire day in the carriage and was only now rolling up to one of the most ostentatious places he had ever seen. 

A footman rushed up as the carriage rolled to a stop. He was given a bow and a hand to help him step down from the carriage. His small lugage, all except the violin case clutched desperatly in his hand, was already being hiked up the stairs by servants he had barely caught sight of. A new sharply dressed servant met him just inside the door and led him up a winding stairs and halls to the door of a room introduced as his.

The room was nice. It was very fancy. Highly decorated. But in a way that was extremely purposeful. Artificial beauty. The room felt steril to Ayerdryn, like he wasn’t allowed to touch or move anything despite it being his room. The walls almost seemed to be slowly creeping closer and closer the longer he stood at the foot of his new bed. 

He rubbed his eyes in an effort to relieve the dizziness overtaking his mind. Fresh air. He needed some fresh air. That had always helped back home. A little airing out might even make the room feel less like a painting and more like a real place. He moved with purpose over the stained glass window. It was tall, divided into two sections by a large piece of wood across the center right above Ayerdryn’s head. He couldn’t see any of the latches he was familiar with from back home. The windows had barely ever been closed back home. Maybe they then just didn’t see the use of latches here. He reached up and placed both hands and the lower part of the framed section and pushed outward. Nothing. Maybe they were just really well secured windows. That’s why they didn’t need a latch, because you needed more force to open them anyways. He pushed harder. Nothing budged. Not an inch. In a surge of exasperation, he slammed both plans down in the thick glass, the raised metal holding together the small pieces of decorative glass pressing into his skin. Nothing. His arms went slack as his head fell forward to press against the cool glass. His teeth were grinding together as he tried to stop the tears from falling onto his cheeks. It was his wedding day, and by the gods above and below he would not cry. 

A knock at the door caused him to jump up and instinctively wipe away any trace of wet eyes. “Prince Ayerdryn,” a soft voice came from the door, “I’ve come to help you prepare for the ceremony.” 

“Of course,” he replied. “Yes, please come in!” Ayerdryn quickly pushed his hair back in place and did his best to seem as if he had been admiring the view instead of banging his head against the window. He turned around at the sound of the door closing to see a small elven woman dressed in simple yet clean clothing and delicately laying out robes on the bed. 

She straightened and gave him a short bow. “Would you like a bath after your travels? We have many scents you can choose from to help you relax after such a long distance.” 

Honestly, he hadn’t gotten very dirty on his ride in a clean and covered carriage. Still, it was probably expected that one looked their best on their wedding day. And besides, he felt a little worn out after his boughs of almost crying. “That sounds wonderful, thank you.” 

He followed the woman through a side door he hadn’t paid attention to before. Behind it was a another slightly smaller room. There was a large closet along one wall, a changing screen in the corner with a full body mirror beside it. And close to the center of the room while still straddling one wall was a well sized tub already full of streaming water. A table with a glass of water and colorful bottles and soaps stood next to the tub. A thick string dangled within reaching distance of the tub. The woman stood between the tub and the entrance. “Shall I help you undress, Sir?” 

“Oh, um, that won’t be necessary.” Ayerdryn gently rubbed the back of his neck. “Actually, would I be able to get some privacy while I, um, freshen up?”

“Of course,” she replied. “I’ll be in the other room. Please just ring the bell,” she gestured at the tick string, “if you need anything.” 

“Of course, thank you.”

She bowed again and left the room, closing the door quietly behind her. Ayerdryn let out a breath of tension with her departure and glanced at the tub. A warm bath actually sounded very nice. He searched the bottles until he found a lavender scented oil to sprinkle in the water. He quickly undressed and submersed himself in the warm water. 

By the gods he wished he could stay here surrounded by this warmth forever. It was definitely better than trying to imagine what waited for him on the other side of the door. Wedding robes he had no say in and a husband whom he knew even less about. With a sigh he dunked his head beneath the water and began to wash his hair. If nothing else, he drew comfort from the familiar motions. 

All too soon, the water had cooled and he forced himself out before he grew wrinkly. The towel hanging nearby was fluffy but foreign. He considered ringing the bell, but moved to the door instead, still wrapped in only the towel. The woman was standing near the large vanity, laying out supplies most likely to make him look his best. She jerked up and gave a bow when Ayerdryn cleared his throat to alert her to his presence. 

“Prince Ayerdryn! Ah, may I help you with your hair?” She approaches to a respectful distance. 

“Oh, um, sure. Yes.” 

With a nod, she moved behind him, muttered a few words, and wove wind through his hair. It was thoroughly dry in moment. Ayerdryn ran a hand through the loose strands. “Thank you.” 

The woman nodded and headed towards the clothes laid out on the bed. He fidgeted as picked up underclothes to bring to him. 

“Um, may I ask you a question?”

“Of course!” She said. “I am here to serve you today.”

“Right, well, um, would you say that magic is common here in Yethia?” 

“Yes,” she answered as she approached. “ I believe that just about any Elf who is considered anyone has mastered some form of the art.” 

Ayerdryn nodded, relieved that at least his hobby wouldn’t be also taken away from him. He blushed as she moved to help him the underclothes before assuring her that he could do that part himself. Ayerdryn was used to a nice lifestyle, but he had never been waited on to such a degree. It just wasn’t a practical use of family resources to lay people to help him dress. But then again, this was the royal family. And it was his wedding day. 

He stood still as a puppet while the woman helped him into the many layers of the wedding robes. He wanted to rattle off all the questions bouncing around his head, but the woman seemed so intent on her job that he felt it would be rude to disturb her. When he was sat at the vanity, though, and her fingers started running through his hair, he couldn’t stop himself from needing to know something, anything, about the woman now becoming intimate with his hair, a job usually regulated to his siblings as they chatted happily before events. “So have you worked in the castle long?”

“Yes,” she began. “I was lucky enough to get an apprenticeship under one of the royal tailor’s assistants.”

“Oh, congratulations! So I’m guessing this,” he gestured around him, “isn’t part of your usual duties?” 

“No, sir. But her late Majesty’s handmaiden died of a broken heart not long after she left us. I’m sure that his Majesty will find someone permanent for you soon, Prince.” Ayerdryn have a small nod as if he was concerned with such matters. 

His hair was quickly twisted up into a complicated series of knots interwoven with blooms cascading down his back. The exact type of flower was unknown to him, but the site of the buds were familiar enough for him to cling to for any sense of familiarity. With his hair done and his robes draped perfectly over his body, the woman informed him that unless he needed anything else she would be back soon for to collect him for the ceremony. 

As the door closed behind her, the reality hit Ayerdryn of just how quickly this was all happening. He had been in this land for less than a few hours and in less than another he would probably be married. Suddenly, he was glad that he was still sitting down as he was sure he would have collapsed at the thought. Dizziness made it difficult to grasp any particular thought from the many rushing through his head, but he couldn’t ignore the lump trying to claw up his throat. He took as big of a breath as he could. An overwhelming wave was threatening to consume him, but he knew that he couldn’t dare to let it wash over him. 


	2. The wedding

A knock at the door surprised air into his lungs with his gasp of fright. At least that meant they still worked. “Y-yes?” 

“It’s time, Prince Ayerdryn.” The woman hadn’t come in since he hadn’t given his express permission. He took one more second to breathe before pushing on the chair’s arms with all of his might. When he felt steady enough to stand without a white knuckle grip on something, he crossed to the door. Once again, the woman bowed when he opened the door. She led him down twisting halls and doors until he stood in a small room where flowers were pressed into his hands. He could hear low and thumping music through the door. 

On a particularly dramatic beat, they were thrust open, and he was bathed him light. It consumed him, lit him like a lily on a summer day, but it lacked the sun’s warmth. Almost as if he were a ghost, he felt himself slide down the aisle. There were streamers and even more flowers and big hats. Somewhere in the very back of his mind, he noted that this is an extremely small ceremony for a royal wedding. 

Two tall elves stood at the end of his river of red. One was draped in flowing robes only slightly less complicated than his own. His mind chose to focus on the detailed embroidery along the priest’s collar rather than the man standing next to him. Out of the corner of his eye, the stiff fabric seemed like metal. 

He could hear words flowing around him. Like he was underwater listening to his sisters gossiping above him. He knew his back was ramrod straight, yet it felt like he was constantly falling as the room spun. 

He heard his name. He felt his mouth move but couldn’t remember what he said. 

He was trapped completely by the deep brown eyes that bored into his soul. They took his breath away. And kept it hovering over his lips like a treat. Eyes that demanded obedience. 

All too soon, the raging sounds of clapping broke him from his stupor. Someone was holding his hand. He couldn’t remember any of the speeches he knew must have been prepared. He didn’t even remember saying “I do.” Yet there it stood. A simple gold band with a small diamond inlay. Securely on his own finger. A finger connected to the hand that was being held by the King of Yethia. By his husband. By the man with the demanding eyes. 

He forced his own gaze to drift up to meet his husband’s face. The man was facing the crowd with a small, polite smile and a slowly waving hand. Turning his own head forward, Ayerdryn forced a strained smile onto his lips. It was his wedding day. He was supposed to be happy about it. 

His hand was pulled forward by the King as he led him down the aisle once more. Down the aisle and into a room lavishly decorated for a feast. As was the custom, the newly married couple sat at a long table by themselves with plenty of room on either side for the gifts that were expected to be bestowed upon them. 

Despite the many balls and social events Ayerdryn had been to in his life, he swore that he recognized none of the elves who approached to lay a gift in his hands and give their well wishes for his new union. Not that it mattered much since he didn’t even get a change to examine the gifts or the people before they were taken from his hands by a finely dressed servant and replaced with someone new. 

The pattern was only interrupted by the arrival of food following the last guest. As delicious as the artfully prepared dishes looked, their presence made his stomach turn. The arrival of the food meant that he could no longer avoid the gaze of his new husband. They each took a small spoonful of the meal and crossed arms. For the first time since their union, Ayerdryn met the direct gaze of the person he had married. The eyes seemed slightly softer now though no less intimidating. While he had always imagined the action of feeding his spouse to be rewarding and full of trust, he almost felt as if he was somehow being dominated. Like this was the final sign that everything from the past few hours was finally real. This was reality. He was a married man. Trapped in a kingdom that wasn’t even decent enough to have lilies growing on the side of the lakes. 

He spent the rest of the meal eating as much as he could to avoid having to make conversation. To avoid the inevitable tremble that would burst from his lips. To stop the prickling in his eyes before they even thought to turn to tears for a third time that day. 

Much too soon, the plates had been cleared, hands had been shaken, and his new husband was leading him through the winding halls. They stopped outside of a gilded door with two guards standing on either side. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to enter what was obviously the King’s rooms or not, but his husband still had his hand wrapped securely around his elbow, so he guessed that he was following. 

The room was opulent. That was really the only way to describe it. Ayerdryn was used to living in comfort, but this was all on a completely different scale. It was the kind of living that his father thought he had but only dreamed of. The well detailed tapestries and overly delicate carpets were nice though. They gave Ayerdryn something to look at other than his husband’s face or bed. Those were details he didn’t think he had the brain power to comprehend just quite yet. Luckily, the king led him to a small sofa and chair placed in front of a roaring fire instead. 

He dropped Ayerdryn’s arm at the sofa before perching himself on the chair. He was the very picture of dignified royalty, and Ayerdryn was frozen in place, like a mannequin maneuvered into a pose and left to rot. 

The king closed his eyes briefly and gestured for Ayerdryn to sit. “Please, sit. This conversation doesn’t have to be long, but it would be more...comfortable if you sit.” Ayerdryn dropped into the seat as if his strings had been cut. “Great.” He leaned back with his hands folded together. Ayerdryn knew the look. He wasn’t angry yet. But he wasn’t happy. Ayerdryn wasn’t listening correctly. Wasn’t doing something right. His back was already straight, but he forced his hands to lie still from where they had been tapping out a rhythm on his thigh. 

“As you know, this is not a normal marriage. With my wife gone, rest her soul, the laws require that I have a spouse. Of course, I have. I have no real need for any more heirs. Backups are nice, but I have a son and more usually aren’t worth the trouble.” Ayerdryn nodded as his father would have expected him to, as if he didn’t come from a large family where he loved every one of his siblings. “Now, political and business alliances, on the other hand, those are bargaining chips that never lose their value. Which, is why, of course, you are here. As with everyone else in this world, you are not what is import here. It is your relationships that are important. It is your blood that marks you as a full elf that’s important. It is your family history that marks your family line as a regal one that is important. It is your family’s dealings with my kingdom that is important. And, to a lesser extent,” the king rose from his seat and moved directly in front of Ayerdryn. He firmly grasped the younger man’s chin to tilt his up to examine his face. “It is your graceful beauty that makes you worthy of this position.” He let his hand drop and walked too drink cart set off to the side. “Of course there are many others who could take your place. Many others who would be much better suited to the situation than yourself,” he shrugged. “But this is the position we have found ourselves in.”

He returned to the chair, drink in hand, without offering Ayerdryn any. “You shouldn’t need to find yourself worrying over playing the part of a loving couple. You will only need to present yourself by my side for official engagements. It need not be said that your behavior must still be held up to the level of someone of the ruling family, even if you will not have much power yourself. As such, I have assigned you a slave that should be able to perform any tasks you deem necessary.” One hand fluttered for a short gesture. “I expect you to familiarize yourself with the culture we keep her and to remain knowledgeable enough to entertain when necessary. Other than that, your time to yours to do with as you wish. When it comes to any,” one eyebrow flicked higher, “unsavory business, though, I must insist upon your discretion.”

A light blush rose to Ayerdryn’s cheeks. “O-of course, sire.”

“Good.” The Kind turned his attention to the fire. “You are dismissed.” 

Ayerdryn stood and gave a shaky bow before exiting the room mechanically. He didn’t allow himself the courtesy of relaxing once the door closed behind him. With the thick wood of the door there was no way the king would be able to hear him, but there were still the guards to consider. As the kind had just so heavily impressed upon him, he now had an *image* to consider. 

A fog had hung over his mind for most of the night. When combined with the multiple twists and turns that had taken him first to the hall then to the king’s room, Ayerdryn was well and truly lost. He must have spent at least a few hours wandering the twists and turns like a ghost looking for its grave before he came to a hallway that looked slightly more familiar than the never ending stonework. He took a chance in the abandoned way to turn the door handle. It opened. Finally he had returned to the privacy of his room.

He rushed in and closed the door with more force than necessary, immediately collapsing against the sturdy wood behind him. While walks were usually relaxing, being trapped within the stonework and invisible pressure of millions of eyes upon him, his teeth were only clenched tighter now than when he had first set out. He let out a sigh. Ran his hand through his hair. Or, he tried to. It got stuck in the pins and curls, causing Ayerdryn to curse and push away from the door towards the vanity. 

He sat down roughly in the chair and turned his attention to the mirror. In the process of raising his hands to feel out the pins, his scrunched eyebrows flew up in surprise. In the mirror, there was someone else standing in the room. He jumped to his feet, letting out a shriek of terror, and reflexively reaching for his violin. 

The man, for that was definitely a man, took a half step forward with his hand on his sword. And, yep, that was sword. There was an armed man in his room. On the other side of his bed. A strange, armed man with a scarily neutral expression. 

“Are you hurt,” he asked. The gravelly voice was just as surprising as his presence. It was crackly, like he needed water or hadn’t spoken for a while. Gosh, Ayerdryn could never let his voice to fall into such disarray. That would be a nightmare. But no! No. No focusing on the weird voice. Focusing instead on why the hell there was a strange, armed man in his room. 

“No,” he croaked out while scooting a little further away. 

“Do you need help?”

“N-no.” The man nodded before stepping back against the wall with the same neutral expression. It certainly didn’t look like the man was planning on leaving anytime soon. Ayerdryn carefully maneuvered to his feet, never taking his eyes off of the man whose own eyes seemed eternally focused on some nondescript spot right in front of him. 

He couldn’t believe this. First he married off to some asshole king who then gave him a-a fucking dressing down within even knowing him. And now here stood this weird and frankly threatening man in what was supposed to be his private area to be alone and cry and scream and freak out, you know, alone! Privately. He stomped straight into the man’s eyesight. “Actually you can help you. You can tell me who the hell you are a d why you’re standing in my private rooms!”

The man again frowned slightly, not meeting his eyes. “I’m here to serve you, my lord.”

“Serve me?” Ayerdryn asked with his own raised eyebrow. 

“Yes, my lord. I am you slave to do with as you please and to protect you.” Ayerdryn was still unable to force his gaze to meet his own. 

“I don’t want, I don’t need a slave!”

“I was ordered to serve and stay with you, my lord.”

Ayerdryn plopped his hands on his hips. “Well I don’t have anything for you to do right now, and, frankly, I would like to be alone.”

He gave a small flinch but still didn’t seem inclined to move. “Yes, my lord.”

“Well? Can you go somewhere not here?”

His expression looked pained as he seemed to force the words out slowly. “I could, if it pleases you, my lord, stand guard outside the door, until you need me?”

“Yes, that’s fine,” he said as he turned and sat himself back at the vanity. Ayerdryn watched the strange man leave in the mirror as he messed with his hair. As soon as the door was closed, he dropped his hands. His reflection didn’t look like royalty. All he saw was a scared little kid who would give the world to be sitting on a piano bench next to his sisters. 


End file.
